It was the afternoon preceding the first night of Chanukah, just a few hours to go until a very eager seven-year-old would light an oil menorah for the first time ever. His excitement couldn’t be contained, and the acoustics in my house — or my brain — just weren’t made to handle this level of exuberance. I
We can all agree that there are, in fact, two kinds of people in this world. People who cook in advance and freeze, and people who don’t
I was resentful. I was desperate. So I did the most rational thing: l urged my husband to somehow be less awesome.
I can imagine all the calm focused mothers whispering to each other in the street: Protect your children don’t send them to the Lavons.
Shabbos as a child was magical. It all started on Friday — you couldn’t have Shabbos without Erev Shabbos.
The apartment creaks with ghosts of potential. Laughter may waft in from outside, but has never once filled his own home
